


The Fountain of the Jasmine Dragon

by ishouldwritethatdown



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adopted Children, Baby Has A Cold And Dad Is Really Disproportionately Worried, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Minor Illness, Tea Parties, Would A Fic With Iroh Be Complete Without A Tea Party The Answer Is No, baby Izumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 07:31:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18633637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishouldwritethatdown/pseuds/ishouldwritethatdown
Summary: Zuko takes Izumi on a father-daughter outing to the Jasmine Dragon while in Ba Sing Se to ask Iroh for help with something that requires his critical and undivided attention. The health of the crown princess of the Fire Nation is nothing to be left to chance, after all - yes, itmightbe just a cold, but you can never be too careful.





	The Fountain of the Jasmine Dragon

“Izumi, please. You’re embarrassing me.”

Shame is a meaningless concept to a toddler.

Zuko bounced her slightly in his arms, shushing her, but she continued to wail, snot running into her mouth and tears streaming down her face. Other people in the teashop were giving him sharp looks, and he was starting to wish that he hadn’t dressed himself down with his hair shielding the left side of his face. No one would be so openly judgemental to the Fire Lord – although they would probably still disparage him behind his back, and he wasn’t sure that was much better.

At least he had spent that extra hour thoroughly dropping his tail (what didn’t the Royal Guard understand about _alone time_?) and didn’t have to subject anyone to the knowledge that the leader of their nation couldn’t calm a baby.

One of the other small children seemed to be catching the urge to scream, and he winced as the boy’s own mother tried to calm him preemptively. He wiped at Izumi’s cheeks with his thumb and pinched her nose to clear the snot, and she quieted for a moment, looking up at him with amber eyes. “Oh, you like that?” he teased, pinching again, and she giggled. Seeming tired, she tucked her head in to his chest and started sucking on her thumb. He wiped his hand on his tunic with a grimace. Why did children have to be so gross?

“What can I get you?” the shop attendant asked cheerily, but Zuko was already looking behind him to the kitchen.

“Uncle,” he called, and absorbed though he was in his brewing, Iroh turned at the sound of his voice immediately. He exclaimed happily at the sight of them and beckoned them into the kitchen. The shop boy lifted up the hatch in the countertop right away with a welcoming smile, more genuine than his former, and Zuko felt his cheeks heat at the realisation that his uncle must chat to his employees about him.

“My dear nephew,” Iroh greeted, embracing him. When he pulled back, he ruffled Izumi’s hair affectionately. “And grand-niece! What a wonderful surprise.”

She didn’t react, apparently fast asleep, which should have been a relief after all the wailing, but it only made him worry more. “She’s sick,” Zuko said.

Iroh put a hand to his beard, humming, and then said, “Follow me. Lee, please keep an eye on that chai, I will be back shortly.” He lead them upstairs to the apartment, which was as he remembered it (modest, but pleasant, and with a distinct homely air). Iroh went straight to the kitchen and lit the stove.

“If we’re going to drink tea, we might as well have stayed in the shop,” Zuko joked, although he was grateful for the privacy. He didn’t realise until then that he’d tucked his hair behind his ear as they came up the stairs, exposing his scar now that he was firmly in good company.

Iroh smiled and asked him how long she had been ill while he set the water to boil.

“It started last night. She was agitated before bed, and then she kept waking up,” he answered. Again, he should be grateful that she was catching up on the rest she had missed (one of them had to), but instead he only felt even more unnerved now that she was quiet. There was also the stress of his visit to the city in the first place, meeting with the Earth King, but if he was being honest, it was falling secondary in his priorities.

“You know, Ba Sing Se has some very fine doctors,” he said pointedly. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but I doubt very much that the crown princess does not have her own nurses to look after her.”

Zuko averted his eyes to his daughter and tried to flatten her hair where Iroh had made it spike upwards. “You’re the person I trust most in the world, uncle.”

He bowed his head before returning to his tea. “I am honoured. Of course I will do what I can.”

“Did… Lu Ten ever get sick?” he asked. He felt immediately that he might have overstepped and watched for a negative reaction, but he didn’t even pause in stirring his tea.

“Not really,” he answered casually, with a shrug. “Not until he was being tutored when he was older. He caught dragon pox off one of the other boys. Lu Ten was a healthy baby, though. Sometimes too healthy, if you ask me,” he added jovially. “The energy that boy had was unbelievable. You, on the other hand…” He shook his head, sitting down with the teapot and pouring them each a cup.

“I was sick as a child?” he asked, surprised. He had no memory of it.

“In the first two or three years of your life, you were hardly healthy. There was some worry over whether or not you would survive. And those who believed that your illness was an omen that the royal bloodline had been tainted.” He blew on his tea and his sober expression turned to a bright smile. “I always suspected you would pull through, though. You have always been incredibly strong.”

The air itself seemed to be becoming infused with the sweet smell of the tea, and he took a deep breath of it. He imagined that each inhale and exhale Izumi took was cleansing her lungs and throat, and his nerves settled a little. “The talk of ill omens doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “Some of the Fire Sages insist on prophesising the downfall of the dynasty ever since I adopted Izumi.”

Hearing the bitter edge in his voice, Iroh looked up at him with concern. “Surely you don’t regret it.”

“No, no!” he rushed, and his uncle’s expression quickly turned to a smile. “I wouldn’t trade her for anything,” he said truthfully, with an amount of vulnerability that would normally have him curling into a hard shell. But he had nothing to fear from this company – his true family – so he forced himself not to hide it behind a defensive flare of anger as he used to. “It’s just…” he sighed. “She’s going to grow up surrounded by debates of her legitimacy as an heir to the throne. I don’t want her to have to doubt her place in the world.”

“Ahh,” Iroh nodded sympathetically. “I understand. You want to spare her from hurting, just as any good parent would. Unfortunately… as parents, we sign up for heartbreak. Whether it be a big one or a small one. You cannot help her prosper in the world by keeping her away from the world. That is the way of it.”

“I know.” He knew that Izumi being criticised for her position in the royal family was only bound to cause a small heartbreak, as long as he stood by her, which he couldn’t imagine himself ever not doing. Standing up for her place in the world would make her formidable, and if he did this right, she would carry forward the compassion that he was trying with all his heart to restore to the throne. There was no world where he turned his back on her.

“It was noble of you to take her in as you did,” Iroh said.

“Someone had to,” he replied quietly. Then his mouth ticked up into a smile as he added, “Though I appreciated Katara’s advice that I set up orphanages for the rest of the orphans that came out of the uprising. In case I got any ideas about taking responsibility for every child in the Fire Nation.”

Iroh laughed heartily. “Now that is something I would like to see! Especially with the amount of trouble this one’s giving you.”

As if on cue, Izumi stirred from her sleep and started sniffling. Zuko tried to shush her, desperately wanting to avoid any more wailing, and his uncle chuckled and gestured for him to pass her over. As soon as her little hands were in reach, she tugged sharply on his beard.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “It’s my pleasure, Princess Izumi, I assure you.” She giggled, but the snot kept streaming. “My, my. You certainly live up to your name, don’t you?” he said, producing a handkerchief with a dramatic flourish and wiping her nose. At Zuko’s confused look, he added with mock disapproval, “Zuko, do you not know your own daughter’s name? Izumi means spring, or fountain.”

“I just picked it ‘cause it sounded pretty,” he admitted. There had been a great long list of names acceptable for a royal heir of the Fire Nation – was he supposed to research them all? Izumi had just felt the most right.

“I can’t fault that logic,” he said, lifting his cup again. To Izumi, he asked, “Can you help me cool down my tea?” He demonstrated, and she copied.

When he took a sip, she made to grab the cup, and said, “Wansum!” which roughly translated to “Please may I also have some tea, Great-Uncle Iroh?” He happily obliged her, helping the cup to her mouth, and they both exhaled contentedly at the same time with a satisfied, “Aaahh.”

“You don’t know how lucky you are, Izumi,” Iroh said, squeezing her tightly from behind, and she yelped delightedly. He tickled her neck with his beard and she squirmed, laughing. “To have a father as compassionate as yours is a gift worth cherishing.”

Zuko blushed, and then hurried to add, “So is an uncle as patient and loving as mine.”

He smiled at him, and checked Izumi’s forehead with the back of his hand. “I think you’re gonna be just fine.” He turned his eyes to Zuko and added, “You both are.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly my favourite way to show Zuko's healing of the Fire Lord dynasty - to welcome a statusless orphan into his life as his heir and raise her with the compassion and love he was shown by his uncle and denied by his father. Hope you enjoyed!


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